“Cult,” Linsora said and pulled more meat from the skewer.
“Yours is like any other cult,” she said. “For 200 years, you’ve been brainwashed.”
“Have you considered that maybe it’s you and your people who have been brainwashed?” Permac countered. “Could be your fantasy.”
“It’s reality. Want this?” She pointed to the last skewer of meat. Permac shook his head. “This and more of that ale, and I’ll be all set. I saw a cloak back there that would be useful.”
“That’s not all you saw.”
Linsora grinned. “True, I could use a weapon . . . or two.”
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